Pregnancy

My experience with badass bullies – both as a mom (when my kids were little) and as a kid: There’s a red-headed twenty-seven month-old Love Bully named Scarlet in Clare’s Toddler-and-Me class. Just our luck, she has it in for

Hello my dearest readers. Thank you so much for reading! I just found out my book, Into The Child: 40 Weeks in the Gestational Wilderness, was named one of the best 100 Indie books of 2012 by the Kirkus Review!

My eighteen month-old toddler Clare loves her daddy more than me. There it is. In black-and-white for all to see. A public indictment of my mothering skills. C : “What’s she doing here?” H: “Just ignore her and maybe she’ll go away.”

The Los Angeles Lakers showed up for the cesarean with my first child Clare. Okay. Not literally. My doctors – whom we’ll call Kobe and Shaq – kept discussing the three-point spread on the game between the Lakers and the Hawkes

The day before my baby’s birth I’ve officially broken the forty pound weight barrier, coming in on the scale today at a whopping 171 1/2 pounds. I keep hearing the theme music from my favorite ’70s television show The Bionic Woman,

My friend Mary Rose had her second child, Maya, completely naturally. No drugs. What she didhave was a wiccan-ish circle of women, her mother and sisters, who began spontaneously moaning and grunting along with Mary Rose as she labored while

In the last ultrasound our baby’s profile looked like a small ape baby face AND our house has been destroyed. Both things I blame on Henry; he has opposable thumbs and he had the house retrofitted. Henry’d noticed the floors

I’m in the stage of pregnancy where I resemble a post-op frontal lobotomite. I spelled “of” “uv” the other day. I knew it looked wrong, but couldn’t figure out why. I tried to introduce my mother to our pizza

Henry’s mad at me for being mad at him regarding what time he comes home from work, which is the admittedly reasonable hour of six-thirty, but is too late to have a family dinner which is the foundation for successfully

My world is spinning off its axis. My babysitter is leaving me.(Did I mention I’m a work-at-home-writer mom, which means I can wear pajamas all day?). Does my babysitter really think moving to Arizona to get her Master’s Degree in

As I swallowed a third Tums to quell the pillaging heartburn that comes of eating chicken milanesa when you’re nearly eight months pregnant, I dreamt of not being a mommy for one whole week. I want just one measly week

There’s a red-headed twenty-seven month-old Love Bully named Scarlet in Clare’s Toddler-and-Me class. Just our luck, she has it in for Clare. My daughter and I try to enter the classroom discreetly, keeping to the edges of the room, dressing

I’m lying in bed useless to the child I have, trying to get over a horrible cold so I won’t have to take any more over-the-counter drugs that might give the child-growing-in-my-belly three breasts (like Anne Boleyn – and just

In film school I made an eight millimeter film on female body image for my non-narrative film class. I decided it was important to demonstrate that women of all sizes were beautiful. So I begged my actress friend Beatrice, a

Here’s my sob story accompanied by violin in A minor: My parents divorced when I was two. Both remarried. My dad once and forever. My mom (She Who Shall Be Named Culpable) three more times. There was The Cop, The Fireman

All I want for Christmas is: 1. To keep the pregnancy boobs. 2. Nipple tassels for the pregnancy boobs that I can helicopter at will. 3. Fishnet support hose. 4. A non-pooping pet. One that comes standard with an intra-defecatory

Ahh, the Christmas season is upon us yet again. Stress on earth, general resentment toward men. I’m related to Ebenezer Scrooge. Paternal fifth-cousin once removed. Last Year’s Resentment Litany: 1. Having to find the perfect gift for twenty plus

We enter a Mexican restaurant for our first dinner out together since the twelfth of never. It smells of tomatillos and pinto beans con queso, deep-fried corn tortilla chips and freshly blended Jose Cuervo 1600 margaritas with salted rims. The

Whaddaya mean you’re giving me a sibling? Today I lifted my shirt to show 18-month old Clare my belly. “There’s a baby sister in here for you,” I said. She finger-tipped a wooden “F” block and hurled it at my

1. You’re a bitch to your husband during pregnancy because he flattens himself against the wall like a minnow avoiding a migrating sperm whale when you pass. 2. He thinks natural childbirth sounds “interesting.” 3. He brings you a “slice”